Page 25 of Goldflame

I can’t believe myself, but I’m wet. Now he knows it too.

A dark smirk crosses his face, actually making him handsome for a moment, instead of twisted in rage. “You’re so fucked up you want me to fuck you on mybrother’s bed? Want me to make you come harder than he ever could.”

The challenge in his gaze dares me to deny it, to deny him. But I can’t look away; I’m caught in the force of his obsession, struggling against the worst part of myself—the part that still wants him as much as it hates him.

“Fuck you,” I bite out.

He laughs, a sound that’s a low rumble and vibrates down into my toes. Apparently, my body is still humming from the way he kissed me at the vineyard.

“You act tough,” he says. “But it’s clear who you belong to.” He holds my chin firmly between his fingers. “Say it.”

“Fuck. You.”

“Say it.” His words sink into me like claws, tearing through the last shreds of my sanity.

“I don’t belong to anyone,asshole.” I yank at the restraints, desperate to escape how much I want him, desperate to escape myself. But it’s no use; I’m tied too tight, held too firm by both plastic and my own traitorous desire as my body continues to tremble under his intense gaze.

He watches me fight everything—the ties, the truth—and there’s a smug satisfaction in his eyes when he presses harder against me, pinning me with his body. “You’re mine,” he tells me. The zip ties cut deeper as I struggle, but it only seems to excite him more. “Admit it.”

I shake my head, but the movement is weak.

“Don’t say it then. But your body already has.” His lips brush against my neck as he speaks. “You can’t resist me any more than you can run from this room.”

His hand moves again, sliding along my thigh with infuriating slowness, pushing the fabric higher until I’m trembling under his touch.

“Stop,” I gasp out, but it sounds like I’m begging for more.

He laughs—a low, dark sound full of disdain and desire—and begins grinding against me with devastating precision. My composure shatters at every deliberate thrust of his hips, from the way his hardness hits my core through my panties, until all I can do is gasp and writhe beneath him.

“You hate how much you want this,” he whispers against my ear. “You hate that you’re already dripping for me.”

The heat inside me builds unbearably as I squirm and fight back a moan.

“Don’t hold back now.” He pulls away just enough to look at my face. His blue eyes burn with challenge and certainty as they rake over me—my flushed skin, my parted lips—taking in every reaction before his gaze locks onto mine again. “Just stop fighting what you already know is true,” he commands. His fingers circle my clit while he grinds into me faster. Harder. Relentless. “Make those pretty little noises for me.”

I bite down on my lip so hard I taste blood.I won’t give into his madness.

Then there’s an explosion of sensation as he pulls my panties aside and starts fucking me with his thick, demanding fingers. I cry out shamelessly, arching into him even with the damn zip ties cutting cruelly into my wrists.

“That’s it.” His breath hitches triumphantly as he feels how close I am to breaking completely under him. “You’ll always be mine, Aurelia.”

His name tears from my throat on a ragged moan as everything goes white-hot and wild around me; pleasure crashing over pain until I don’t know where one ends and the other begins.

“A fucking liar.” His voice finds its way through the haze. “But still mine.”

I want to tell him I’m not—not a liar, not his—but his mouth is on mine, kissing the life out of me.

Against all reason, I kiss him back. It’s wild and reckless and angry, a kiss that might destroy us both. He tastes like fury and need, like he wants to turn back time and erase all the horrors that have brought us to this moment. Part of me wants it too—wants to go back before everything went to hell, before he believed I could betray him and kill Adrian. Before he became the same monster he claims to want revenge on.

I kiss him harder, desperate to reach the Julian I used to know. The one I loved. His grip loosens on me, and I crack my eyes. He’s looking back at me and there’s a flicker of something like hope in his gaze as my mouth moves against his with a ferocity that’s complete desperation.

He groans into the kiss, deepening it until we’re both breathless. One hand tears at my ties while the other slides under my dress again. My legs wrap around his as if they have a mind of their own, pulling him closer in a tangled mess.

“You want me breaking you, don’t you?” He sounds almost frantic now, unguarded in a way that cuts deep.

“Fuck you,” I gasp—but it’s different this time; no bite behind it.

Incredibly, he snaps the wrist ties in his fists, blood rushing back to my cold, numb hands. Then his fingers are on me again, thrusting hard and fast until I’m losing the fight, giving in to how much I still crave him even when I should hate him.

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